i thought he was nice.

[ 2.10 ]

Noah Stilinski did not like being woken up at one in the morning by his idiot son to discuss a murderer. But Stiles insisted that it was an emergency and pulled him out of bed and made him get dressed.

Willow sat on Stiles' bed as he and Scott explained as much as they could to Stiles' father. Stiles had circled Matt's picture in the yearbook in red marker, singling him out as the one that had committed all the murders.

"So this kid's the real killer?" Noah asked doubtfully.

"Yeah," Stiles replied.

He shook his head. "No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Dad, come on," Stiles whined. "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris's class," Noah reminded him.

"All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?" he asked, knowing that he had a point.

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges," he said, sighing. "But that doesn't prove anything."

"H—"

"Scott, do you believe this? Willow?" Noah asked before Stiles could get another word in.

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt," Scott said.

But of course, he looked to Willow, still not fully trusting Scott. As far as most parents were concerned, Willow was the model friend and would never be involved in something like this unless it was serious.

"Mr. Stilinski, I promise Stiles is telling you the truth," she told him. "Matt is the killer and he's just getting started."

Noah sighed but nodded to Stiles, telling him to continue making his argument. "Yeah, he took Harris' car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris' class, that they'd arrest him."

"All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles asked, throwing his arms up. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years."

"Stiles," Willow hissed quietly. "Now is not the time to make jokes."

"Okay, we don't have a motive yet," he admitted. "I mean, come on, does Harris?"

"What do you want me to do?" Noah asked, looking between the three of them.

"We need to look at the evidence," Scott told him.

"Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work," he reminded them, giving a pointed look to Stiles.

"Trust me, they'll let you in," his son said.

"Trust you?" Noah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust - trust Scott?" Stiles said, wincing. "And Willow. Everyone trusts Willow."

He thought for a moment before sighing. "Scott and Willow I trust."

☽︎

The night that Isaac turned for the first time and was locked up felt like it happened ages ago, not just one month. But seeing Officer Liz man the desk during the night shift at the station was a stark reminder of all that had happened since the last full moon. At least this one didn't involve Derek flirting with a stranger.

"It's two in the morning," Deputy Liz said, eying Noah and the kids warily. What on earth were they doing there so late?

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important," Noah told her.

"We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?" Stiles whispered, leaning over to Scott and Willow so that the others wouldn't overhear.

"Why?" Willow asked, frowning. They likely had hours of evidence to comb through spread out over many locations, so why pick the hospital?

"Because all the murders were committed by Jackson, except for one, you remember?" Stiles asked them.

"The pregnant girl, Jessica," Scott recalled.

"Yeah. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him," Stiles guessed.

After Noah convinced Liz to let them through, he led them to his office, which hadn't been used since he lost his position. At Stiles' request, he quickly pulled up the footage of the security cameras from the hospital the night that Jessica was murdered.

"I don't know, guys," Noah said, shaking his head. He was once again losing his faith in their accusation. "I mean, look at this. There was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."

"All right, just keep going. Look, he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere," Stiles told him.

They watched people walk by, slightly sped up for some time. But eventually, Scott spotted a familiar outline.

"Oh, hold on, stop! Did you see that? Scroll back," he instructed, pointing to the middle of the screen.

Noah backed up the video, and they focused on a guy walking through the hallway wearing a leather jacket. Unfortunately, it didn't show his face.

"That's him! That's Matt!" Stiles exclaimed, and even Willow nodded. They had spent enough time with Matt to recognize him.

"All I see is the back of someone's head," Noah said flatly.

"Matt's head, yeah. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird," Stiles muttered.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, getting annoyed with his son.

"All right, fine, then look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?"

"Millions, literally," Noah replied. He glanced at Willow, who was sitting in a chair against the wall. "Willow is wearing a black leather jacket right now."

Willow sheepishly removed the garment, leaving her in the dress from Lydia's party. Though it was too late, as Noah had already made his jacket point.

"Okay, can we scroll forward?" Stiles asked, moving on. "There's gotta be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras." Noah swapped to a different angle, and after a few seconds of watching, they spotted Matt's figure once more. "Right there! Stop, stop! See, there he is again."

"You mean there's the back of his head again," Noah muttered.

"Okay, but look," Stiles said, pointing. "He's talking to someone."

Scott leaned in and squinted at the familiar, slightly blurry face. "He's talking to my mom."

Melissa was quite confused as to why Scott was calling her just as she finished a late shift at the hospital to ask about seeing a random boy from his school at the hospital.

"Scott, you know how many people I deal with in a day?" she asked in disbelief.

"This one's sixteen, he's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager—"

"Yeah, he looks evil," Stiles needlessly chimed in. "And like he stalks pretty girls."

"Scott, I already talked to the police about this," she said, sighing.

"Okay, mom, I'm gonna take a picture and send it to you," he told her before doing so. He sent the yearbook photo. "Did you get it?"

After a moment, Melissa replied that she did.

"Do you recognize him?" Scott asked frantically. "Do you remember him?"

"Yeah, I did," she said, actually surprised. "I mean, I remember I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

"It's - it's nothing, Mom. I'll explain later. I gotta go," he told her before hanging up.

Noah then grabbed a file and began flipping through some of the paper evidence files. "We've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders. The trailer, the hospital, and the rave," Stiles listed.

"Actually, four," Noah informed them. "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When?"

"A couple hours before you got there," he informed him.

"All right, Dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?" Stiles asked.

"Four's enough for a warrant," Noah said. Finally, he believed them. "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"On it," Stiles said, rushing out.

Scott got on the phone to call his mom back, briefly explaining everything. Noah came over to Willow, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I expect this from these two, but do I even want to know how you got wrapped up in this?" Noah asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I smiled at your son in the sandbox in first grade," she said, trying to lighten the mood. It did get a chuckle from him. "Um, if there's a warrant for his arrest, will you be able to search his house too? His room?"

"Yeah, a search order will likely be included," he told her. "Why?"

"N - nothing. No reason," she said, shaking her head.

"Willow," he said, giving her a pointed look. "Are you leaving something out?"

"It's just, um, he — I think he's taken a few pictures of me when I didn't know. I guess I was just curious if there were more," she said, looking at her hands.

Noah sighed and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Stiles told Melissa that he looked like he stalked pretty girls. Has Matt been bothering you?"

"I, um, I didn't know until a few days ago," Willow said quietly. "And I didn't know he was a murderer either. I thought he was nice."

He wrapped a protective arm around her, hugging her. "It's not your fault you didn't know. Lots of sick people like this act perfectly normal in their day-to-day lives. But you will have to include those details when you give your statement."

"I know," she said, sighing. "Can my dad be here when I do? I'll ask him to come once Melissa's statement and the warrant is settled."

"Of course, he can be here. And Warren can be with you through this whole process — he can also be in the room monitoring who sees any kind of photos that are found when Matt's camera and laptop are searched."

"Thanks."

Scott finished up his phone call and turned to face them. "She's on her way here." However, neither reacted to his statement, their eyes shifting behind Scott. "Sheriff?"

Scott slowly turned and spotted the thing that made them go so quiet. Stiles was forced into the office, a gun pointed at his back. And Matt was the one holding the gun.

"Matt? It's Matt, right?" Noah asked warily. He stepped in front of Willow as Matt shoved Stiles over to where Scott was standing. "Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

Matt laughed humorlessly. "You know, it's funny you say that because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are."

"I know you don't wanna hurt people," he told him.

"Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people," he informed them. "You four weren't on my list, but I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialing somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing."

Scott's hand had been in his pocket, fumbling with his phone, but he quickly pulled it out.

"That - that could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone. Now!"

Scott, Stiles, and Noah all put their phones on the desk for Matt to see. When Willow didn't move, he pointed his gun at her.

"Phone, now!" Matt shouted.

Willow let out a small yelp as she pointed to her jacket hanging over the back of the chair. "I - I don't have a pocket. It's over there."

Never dropping the gun, he rustled through the pocket of the jacket until he pulled out Willow's phone, putting it with the others. Now that they couldn't call for help, Matt forced them into the room with the holding cell. He forced Stiles to handcuff Noah to a pole on the wall so that he couldn't interfere.

"Tighter," Matt ordered.

Stiles hesitated, not wanting to cut the circulation off. In response, Matt dug the gun into his back. "Do what he says, Stiles," Noah told him.

Once he was secured, Matt led them back to the office. Scott did his best to keep himself and Stiles in-between Willow and Matt, worried about what he'd do with her specifically. As they passed a hall, they spotted the reason why no other officers had come across them to help.

Bodies littered the floor, torn to shreds and covered in blood. It looked like a scene from a horror movie. And a gun hadn't been what killed them.

"What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?" Scott asked, horrified.

"No, that's what Jackson's for," Matt said, smirking. "I just think about killing them, and he does it."

Once back in Noah's office, Matt separated Willow from the boys. She stood in the center of the room with him and his gun pointed at her. They watched as Scott ran all the physical evidence through the shredder, and Stiles deleted the digital files and data. There wasn't a trace of any of the proof they had amassed.

"Deleted. And we're done," Stiles said, nervously glancing from Matt to Willow and back again. "All right, so, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first — whatever that means — I think we're good here, right? So I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know? You continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the kanima."

Of course, Matt wouldn't accept that deal, but he didn't even get the chance to turn it down. Headlights flashed through the window, signaling that a car had pulled into the parking lot. It was Scott's mom, arriving to give her statement.

"Sounds like your mom's here, McCall," Matt said, smirking.

"Matt, don't do this. When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt," Scott begged. Too many people had already died in the station.

"If you don't move now, I'm gonna kill Willow first, then Stiles, and then your mom," he threatened.

The three of them moved out of the office and looked at the closed door that led through to the lobby. Melissa was on the other side, waiting to be let in. And once she was, there was no telling what Matt would do to her.

"Open it," Matt ordered, nodding to Scott.

"Please—"

"Open the door," Matt repeated, raising the gun to Willow's head, who whimpered.

Scott did as told and opened the door. Only it wasn't Melissa on the other side. It was Derek.

"Oh, thank God," Scott breathed out.

But he rejoiced too soon. A second later, Derek fell over, revealing the half-transformed kanima behind him. Paralyzed and helpless on the ground, Derek looked up at them, assessing the situation. He did his best to tear his gaze away from the gun pointed at Willow and instead look at Scott.

"This is the one controlling him? The one obsessed with Willow? This kid?" Derek asked, clearly unimpressed with what he saw.

"Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf," Matt said, smirking at the surprised looks on their faces. They hadn't expected him to know everything. "Oh, yeah, that's - that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a frickin' Halloween party every full moon. Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"

"Abominable snowman. But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal," Stiles replied sarcastically.

Not amused, Matt nodded to the kanima. In one swift motion, it clawed the back of Stiles' neck. He toppled over, landing face down on Derek's chest.

"You bitch," Stiles muttered, his words muffled by Derek's shirt.

"Get him off of me," Derek insisted, more annoyed than anything.

Matt crouched down and smirked at them. "Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. Just like Willow and I." As he stood, Matt wrapped an uncomfortably tight arm around Willow's waist, pulling her into him. She shut her eyes tightly, knowing that getting out of his arms would be impossible. "It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am," Derek said, steam practically coming from his ears. He had never felt so helpless, and watching Matt manhandle Willow as she cried in his arms was sickening.

"Yeah, bitch," Stiles muttered as if that improved Derek's threat.

Then they heard another car pull up outside, and it had to be Melissa that time.

"Is that her?" Matt asked, looking to Scott. "Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Scott, don't trust him!" Stiles exclaimed.

Matt suddenly released Willow to grab the back of Stiles' shirt and flip him over. Then he pressed his foot to his chest, beginning to crush him.

"This work better for ya?" Matt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, just stop! Stop!" Scott shouted.

"No, please. Let him go," Willow pleaded. "Stop, Matt. Stop."

"Then do what I tell you to," Matt said, glaring at Scott.

"Okay. All right," Scott agreed. "Stop!"

Matt let off of Stiles' chest, who gasped for air as he could finally breathe again. Before Willow could drop to her knees and check on him, Matt grabbed her once more.

"You," he said, looking to the kanima, "take them in there. You and Willow with me."

Scott walked to the front of the station as Matt dragged Willow along, his gun aimed at Scott's head. Melissa came in through the entrance, not seeing anyone manning the front desk.

"Mom," Scott called once they spotted her looking around.

"You scared me. Where is every—"

Melissa cut herself off when she saw the scene. A gun pointed to her son's head by the very boy that Scott had asked her about, and he was holding a terrified Willow in his arms.

"Mom, just do what he says," Scott said, trying to keep her calm. "He promised he wouldn't hurt you."

"He's right," Matt said, smirking. Then he lowered the gun from Scott's head to his stomach, shooting him suddenly. The bang sounded throughout the station. "But I didn't say I wouldn't hurt you."

"Scott! Stiles! Willow!" Noah shouted from the holding room. "What happened?"

"Willow!" They could hear the fear in Derek's voice as he called for her. He trained his ears on the front, desperate to know who had been shot.

Melissa had screamed before moving toward Scott. Matt, though, was having none of it as he pointed his gun at her. "Back, back!"

"Mom, mom, stop, mom!" Scott ordered, not wanting her to get hurt. He clutched the gun wound from his spot on the ground, already feeling it heal.

"I said get back!"

"Scott—"

"Mom, do it. Please, mom," Scott told her again.

"Get up, McCall," Matt ordered.

"Matt?" Noah shouted through the station. "Matt, listen to me—"

"Shut - shut - shut up!" Matt roared, beginning to lose it. "Everybody shut the hell up! Now, get up, or I shoot her next!"

Scott had no choice but to stand with the gun pointed at his mother. Matt sent them to the holding room, where he locked Melissa up in the cell. He had released Willow, for the time being, so she was by Scott, letting him lean weakly against her.

"Please, he needs to see a doctor," Melissa said, mascara running down her eyes.

"You think so?" Matt asked with an amused smile.

"Hey, hey, you listen to me—"

"It's all right," Scott interrupted before Noah could say something to make Matt angrier. "I'm okay."

"No, honey, you're not okay," Melissa said, shaking her head.

"It doesn't hurt, Mom."

"Cause that's the adrenaline, okay? Please, let me - let me just take a look at him, okay?" she asked Matt again. "I mean, I can help stop the bleeding."

Matt chuckled humorlessly and looked back at Scott. "They have no idea, do they?"

"Please. Let me just take a quick look. I—"

"Shut - shut up!" Matt ordered. "Lady, if you keep talking, I'm gonna put the next bullet through his head."

Melissa finally backed down, knowing that it'd be no use. "Okay. Okay."

"Back to the front, McCall," Matt ordered, once again harshly grabbing Willow.

He shoved them both back to the office, where Stiles and Derek were still laying helpless on the floor. The kanima hadn't even moved.

"The evidence is gone. Why don't you just go?" Scott asked.

"You - you think the evidence mattered that much, huh? No, no, I - I want the book," he said, shaking his head.

"What - what book?" he asked.

"The bestiary!" he shouted. "Not just a few pages, I want the entire thing."

"I don't have it," Scott told him. "It's Gerard's. What do you want it for, anyway?"

"I need answers," was all he said.

"Answers to what?" Scott questioned, not getting the point. He already had the kanima and seemed to understand how to make it kill.

"To this!" Matt yanked up the side of his shirt, exposing his side. A patch of his skin had started to turn to scales, similar to those of the kanima. They all looked at it with wide eyes, having no clue what had caused it.

But of course, Matt wouldn't listen to anything Scott tried to say. Leaving the office once more, Matt led Scott and Willow into the break room. It was there that he let go of Willow once again. She rushed to Scott, who wrapped his arms around her, determined to keep her out of Matt's.

"You know, I - I feel sorry for you, McCall, 'cause right now, you're thinkin', "how am I gonna explain this when it heals?" And the sad part is, you don't even realize how incredible it is that you actually are healing. 'Cause, you know what happens to everyone else when they get shot?" Matt asked, glaring at the boy. "They die."

"Is that what happened to you?" Willow asked, speaking for the first time in a very long time. "You drowned, didn't you? What - what happened?"

Perhaps if they got Matt talking, Derek and Stiles would get their movement back. Or maybe an officer would return from patrol and figure out that something was wrong. But a story would buy them time.

"He shouldn't have let them drink," Matt muttered angrily.

"What? Who — Matt, what do you mean?" Scott asked, realizing that there was in fact a reason for all of Matt's murder.

"Lahey!" Matt shouted. "He shouldn't have let them drink."

"What, who was drinking?" Scott asked.

"The swim team, you idiot!" Matt snapped. "I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know they had just won state, and Lahey, he's letting his favorites come over to have a couple drinks to celebrate. Who cares if they're seventeen, right?"

"Were you at Isaac's?" Scott asked him, not understanding why he was involved.

"He had this first edition Spiderman, or was it Batman? And we were gonna make a trade. But then I'm over there and I hear music. And everyone's having a good time, and I see Sean. He throws Jessica in the pool. And then - and then Bennett goes in and—"

"Xavier Bennett?" Willow couldn't help but ask, familiar with the name. "The hunter?"

"And then Camden, Isaac's jarhead brother, he grabs me. He thinks it's funny," he continued.

"They threw you in," Scott guessed. It must have been similar to what happened at Lydia's party.

"I - I yelled that I can't swim, but nobody listens. I go under and I swallow water, and no one cares. And I see these bodies underwater. I see Jessica's got her hands down Sean's board shorts. Tucker's grabbing Kara. And I'm drowning. I'm dying, and they're laughing. All of a sudden, I was just - I'm lying by the pool. And Lahey is right there, right above me, and he says — You tell no one! This, this is your fault! You don't know how to swim? What little bastard doesn't know how to swim? You say nothing! You tell no one! No one!"

"And I didn't. I didn't tell anyone. And I would see them at school, and they wouldn't even look at me. I'd wake up in the middle of the night. I'd gasp for breath. And my parents, they thought I was an asthmatic. They - they - they - they even gave me an inhaler. They didn't know that every time I closed my eyes, I - I was drowning. You know about that little white light that they talk about, you see when you die? Well, I didn't see anything. Just darkness. Everything was dark."

"But then - then came the Argent's funeral, and everything changed. I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of the photos. I look down at the screen on my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that fills up inside of me, and I just - I look at him, and I - I wanna see him dead. And the next day, he actually was. You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology. Like - like the furies coming down to punish Orestes."

Matt grew more annoyed when he saw the clueless look on Scott's face. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Was - was he the guy who stabbed out his eyes?" he asked.

"God, that's Oedipus, you dumbass!" Matt yelled. "The furies are deities of vengeance. Their tears ran of blood, and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my fury."

They looked to Jackson, who was still guarding the office door. No doubt, Derek was listening in while fighting the toxins keeping him paralyzed. Keeping him from ripping Matt apart. It wouldn't be long now.

"You know, when I saw him the next night, it was like this bond had been cemented between the two of us," Matt went on. "I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again. So I went to Tucker's garage. I even paid for an oil change. And guess what? He didn't even recognize me. So when he wasn't looking, I took a shot of him from my camera. And in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life."

"You don't have to keep killing them," Scott said, washing that Matt would see reason. That he'd end this. "You can let us go. Let Willow go."

Matt chuckled as he shook his head, walking up to them. "See, that's where you're wrong. I do have to keep killing. And as for Willow—"

She screamed as Matt roughly pulled her from Scott's grip. He tried to get her back but froze when the gun was pressed to her neck. Matt held Willow back against his chest, slowly backing away from Scott.

"Well, I can't let Willow go, now can I?" he asked, looking down at her. She trembled in his arms as the barrel of the gun trailed up her neck and rested under her jaw. "You should've given me a chance. Cause remember how I said I'm not the kind of guy who would say something like, well, if I can't have her, no one can?"

"Pl - please, Matt," she whimpered, shutting her eyes. "Please."

"Willow!" they heard Derek roar from across the station.

"Awe," Matt cooed. "Sounds like your helpless little boyfriend is listening. Good!" he hissed in her ear.

"Matt, don't," Scott said, stepping forward. However, the kanima stopped him, wrapping its tail around Scott's neck, keeping him in place. Scott met Willow's eye, and for once, she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes. "It - it's gonna be okay."

"See, that's where he's wrong," Matt whispered, his lips grazing Willow's ear. The gun moved down her body as he spoke. "And what I said at the party, well, it's not totally true because, Willow, if I can't have you, no one can!"

The second gunshot sounded of the night as the bullet ripped through Willow's side. Matt let her drop to the ground like a rag-doll.

Willow didn't know much of what happened after that, not with how much pain she was in as she bled out on the tile. But not even a minute after she was shot, the hunters arrived, though she didn't comprehend that it was them.

She didn't know where Scott was. She didn't know where Matt was. She didn't know where Derek was. Her ears were ringing and her vision cloudy — even if the hunters hadn't thrown smoke bombs through each window of the building, her vision was still going in and out.

But at one point, Willow knew that she was outside. She knew that someone was carrying her, though she couldn't tell who. Which meant she didn't know if it was a friend or foe.

Though she could've sworn that the excruciating pain coursing through her dimmed the slightest bit.

Her head lolled to the side weakly as she looked up at the night sky. There were stars above her head — real ones, not the ones she'd count with Derek in her bedroom. The world went black for a moment before fading back in.

This time, a blurry face was looking over her. She couldn't make out who it was but she could see their eyes. Icy blue eyes.

Eyes that were buried that night he died along with Kate.

Willow didn't know much but she did know she must have lost a lot of blood — which was true. It was the only explanation as to why Willow was hallucinating those eyes.

The world went black for longer the next time, and her ringing ears didn't pick up on what was being said.

"Keep your eyes open, damn it."

But Willow couldn't. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, even though she wasn't really seeing when they were. The ringing in her ears faded, along with the rest of her pain as she finally fell unconscious, having lost too much blood.

Back at the station, chaos was ensuing. Hunters were crawling around every corner, Melissa was cowering in fear at what her son turned into, the kanima was roaming free, Matt escaped, and Allison was prepared to kill anyone and everyone if they got in the way of her hunting down Derek. So prepared that she hadn't stopped to help Willow before someone stole her body from the building.

As for Willow? No one could find her. Not even Derek, who spent every second after recovering from the kanima venom searching for her. He had heard her get shot. Heard her scream. Heard how her shallow breaths came slower and slower.

But now she was gone, leaving behind a horrifyingly large pool of blood in the break room.

Derek ran around frantically, avoiding hunters left and right as he desperately tried to catch her scent. But he couldn't, not with the smoke bombs from the hunters flooding his senses, blocking her from him.

Willow was gone, and Derek had no idea who had taken her.